Highland Hellion (Highland Weddings #3)(49)

“No,” he answered sharply. “Sweet Christ, I think I’d agree to anything ye demand so long as ye put yer hands back on me.”

It was what she wanted, and knowing he agreed was like striking a flint stone over a bowl of tinder. She felt the first teasing sparks hit her skin as she laid her hands on him, arching when it felt as if they were connected at some level of awareness she had never encountered before.

Enchantment?

Bewitchment?

All she knew for sure was that she was intoxicated, and happily so. He shifted, pushing their clothing aside as he settled between her thighs. She opened them wide and sucked in her breath when he touched her folds. The sensation was so acute that she wasn’t sure if it was pain or pleasure.

Only that she wanted him to touch her again.

“Easy.”

He was cooing to her, his tone soothing as he stroked her open sex. She was wet, and he teased the sensitive folds with delicate touches of his fingertips.

“I’ll…no…rush…ye…”

Frustration edged his tone, but he seemed to be fighting the urge to get on with claiming her. She wanted that, too, and shifted beneath him, seeking out his member. She’d never felt empty before; now, it seemed to be the single thought she could manage. Everything had melted away beneath the feeling of his hard body.

“No…no’ just yet.”

He lowered more of his weight onto her, imprisoning her beneath him as he stroked her folds, drawing her wetness from where it emerged from the center of her body.

“Rolfe…”

He made a soft, male sound of amusement under his breath. “I like the sound of me name on yer lips.”

He pressed a kiss on her, all the while teasing her spread sex. She writhed beneath him, gasping when he touched a spot at the top of her sex.

“I like that sound even more.”

He sounded arrogant now, pleased in a very male fashion. Part of her recognized that, even if it defied her understanding completely. All she knew was that it was too difficult to keep her eyes open. She was lifting her hips up toward his hand, her lips parting because containing everything inside herself was completely impossible now.

There was too much sensation, too much tension twisting beneath his fingertips. She wanted something so badly that she was straining toward it. Desperation drew her muscles tight as she felt her abdomen ache from her effort to press herself more firmly against his touch.

Then it all burst, like a bubble above her face. She felt the tiny drops of water splattering all over her skin, in a hundred different places. Pleasure ripped through her, holding her in its grasp for moments that felt like hours before she was dropped back into reality, a panting mass of quivering flesh.

Her cheeks stung as she realized he’d watched her through the climax.

“Do nae be shy,” he muttered as he kissed her softly. “If I wanted to wed for duty, I could have done so years ago. I crave yer passion, and I will nae be content without it in our bed.”

They were in shadow, but she saw the glitter in his eyes, could see the way his jaw was tight, while his tone conveyed his determination. She relaxed beneath him, cradling him between her thighs.

“Then come to me.” Her voice was husky, and she lifted her hips in invitation.

She watched the muscles running down his neck cord. He nodded, his teeth clenched as he moved, and she felt the first touch of his member against her sex. It was hard and yet slid easily into the slickness he’d drawn from her body.

The first thrust only drove his length halfway into her. She gasped as her passage stung, feeling as if the skin was being ripped. But he withdrew, granting her a moment to suck in a breath before he was thrusting deep, opening her wide.

He caught her hands when she raised them in defense, pressing them to the surface of the bed as he remained lodged deep inside her. What had been white-hot pain suddenly eased, like a scab jerked off the surface of a partially healed wound. One moment, it was agony, and the next, bearable.

The moment she sucked in a deep breath, the cravings returned. They were deep inside her, echoes of the intense feelings that had drawn her tight right before pleasure burst through her, but she knew what they promised now and was eager for the satisfaction that might be gained.

“More,” she prompted him.

He let out a half bark of male amusement before she felt him shift his body above hers, withdrawing his length and driving it back into her with a smooth thrust that made her gasp when he lodged himself completely within her.

“I’ll happily give ye plenty more.”

He was as good as his word, moving with a pace that was slow and easy, helping her find the rhythm. He smoothed the hair back from her face and then held on to it as he began to move faster. His chest filled and emptied faster, his breath rasping between his teeth as she felt him growing harder. The bubble was growing tighter inside her, the approaching moment beckoning to her as she strained up toward him.

He was holding back; she felt him struggling as she clawed at his arms in need. It was all-consuming, the boundaries of right and wrong dissolving into a storm of cravings and demands from her flesh. She wanted to be taken and he didn’t disappoint her, pinning her beneath him as he drove his cock into her over and over until she burst.

Pleasure wrung her body and tossed her against the wall. She was gasping, straining upward when she felt him slam his cock deep into her and groan. His hot seed flooded her, spurting against her insides as his hand tightened in her hair. For just a moment, there was pain, and it enhanced the moment in a manner she couldn’t completely explain, but it unleashed another ripple of satisfaction. One born from the knowledge that he was stronger than her.